Code Geass R3: Rise Anew
by Yamamoto Ameko
Summary: In one night of blood and fire, the Britannian Empire was no more. The Black Knights struggle to rebuild their ranks and meet the coming chaos. But in a quiet world far away, a familiar power stirs. And he is not pleased. (EDIT: Continuing soon, please read the notice in Chapter 8 and respond as quickly as possible!)
1. Summary

It has been ten years, and the Black Knights have scattered to the winds. Life in the Britannian colonies has become peaceful once more, under the leadership of Empress Nunnally. In hopes that it would prevent another war, another fight for dominance, the armies of all major world powers have been disbanded, and all production of new Knightmares frozen. Most agreed that it was a powerful move towards world-peace.

None suspected foul play until it was much too late.

The remnants of the Black Knights, forewarned by a request for alliance, were on the scene when the Chinese Federation made their strike on the Empress's palace. Outnumbered, and still piloting the outdated models of Zero's Revolution, they were forced to flee, their only comfort in the fact that they escaped with Nunnally vi Britannia unharmed, Suzaku Kururugi barely alive. They did not know until the following morning that similar attacks had occurred throughout mainland Britannia.

In one night of blood and fire, the Holy Empire of Britannia was no more.

Hundreds of miles away, Japan readies itself for war. The Black Knights struggle to rebuild their ranks and meet, head on, the coming chaos.

But in a quiet place worlds away from the war, a shadow stirs. The shadow of a power strange, and yet familiar, to the suffering people of Japan. And he is not pleased.


	2. Episode One: From the Ashes

Episode One – From the Ashes

Kallen flinched back behind the cover of the crumpled, unresponsive Guren. Her gun snapped vertical next to her head so she could load it without moving into sight. Bullets screamed little more than two inches over her head, stirring a wind in their passing that lifted the disobedient strands of her flaming hair. Beside her, Ohgi rose and set his gun against the ridge formed by a bit of crumbled wall. An instant later, the clatter of his bullets could be heard, useless on the enemy shields barely twenty meters away. And they were coming closer.

"We've got to get out of here!" Kallen shouted over the gunfire, her voice hoarse from nearly two hours of giving orders to troops who seemed to grow further and further away.

Yes, it had been only two hours. But it felt more like a week had passed since the remnants of the Black Knights had arrived at the besieged imperial palace. With the Guren functioning, they might have made a better fight. But the falling palace wall had spelled its end; it had almost been beyond Kallen's ability to eject before the slabs of stone collided with her beloved Knightmare. And now there were more dead troops than living; more blood covering the survivors than sweat. They were fighting outside the palace walls now; the enemy commander had already taken up residence.

"We can't!" Ohgi responded, dropping back behind the wall to reload. Moving almost instinctively, Kallen snapped up again and resumed fire, "We have to wait for Zero-"

"And what if he doesn't find the Empress?" Kallen screamed over the rapid fire of her own gun, "What if he's already dead? Are we just going to sit here and get shot, waiting for some corpse in there to get up and start walk-"

She broke off. She couldn't say any more, couldn't finish the thought. Zero; she had always been loyal to him. Even after she had learned the truth; that Lelouch vi Britannia was Zero; she had obeyed his every command. Even after Lelouch had died… she had served the new Zero, the one only she knew was a fake, with every loyalty.

She had no idea who this Zero was, and still she served him…

But the loyalty did not run as deep.

She had realized, over time, that she truly loved Lelouch. That her faith in Zero did not spring entirely from the brilliance with which he constantly saved their lives, constantly brought them victory, but also from the incredible kindness that seemed to overlay his every move. Though many times he had shocked the others with his complete lack of care for the lives of innocents, and for the lives of his own soldiers, _Kallen_, the only one who knew his identity, had been privy to the displays of horror and regret which had followed every unnecessary death. She had watched the utter adoration with which he cared for his little sister; now the Empress of Britannia. She watched the torture it had caused him to fight with his old friend, the late Suzaku Kururugi. And she had fallen in love with that… she had realized she had fallen in love with him just before he died.

Now, this Zero lacked not only Lelouch's utter strategic brilliance, but he lacked her love as well. He lacked identity for her; lacked compassion. He seemed focused completely on the safety and will of Empress Nunnally. He had too much the servant's mindset to replace Lelouch's superior attitude; the one which had annoyed and enthralled her all at the same time.

And so she found that her only regret in leaving Zero behind to save her own life would be the death of Empress Nunnally, whom had once been the focus of Lelouch's very life.

"He isn't dead." Ohgi growled, displaying once again his impossible faith that this Zero was the real one. That Lelouch vi Britannia had been the farce, "He'll make it out. He always does."

That, Kallen had to admit. Though he was not Zero, though he never produced the shining plots that Lelouch had once spun, this imposter seemed to find himself in much fewer tight spots than Lelouch had. He was hurt less often, he vanished less often. Caught by accident in the middle of a high-intensity blast from Kallen's Guren, he had come out with barely a scorch mark on his cloak. She had no doubt that he would survive the center of F.L.E.I.J.A. This new Zero just didn't seem _capable _of death.

"Look," Kallen snarled, ducking behind the wall once more so that Ohgi could take her place, "If he's alive, he can escape on his own. We're no use to him dead."

"Kallen, he-"

"If he's alive, he won't need our help to escape." Kallen cut him off.

Ohgi dropped into cover and stared into her confident eyes, and knew it was the truth. They were both utterly useless to Zero without their Knightmares.

"Then let's run." He sighed, slinging his gun up over his shoulder.

Without really thinking about it, Kallen gripped the speaker on her headset, pressing it closer to her lips.

"Retreat!" She shouted, so loudly that it would probably blast the ears off any surviving Black Knights, "Let's get out of here alive!"

A chorus of concern for Zero and Nunnally assailed her, but she overrode them.

"This order comes directly from Zero!" Ohgi gave her a look of alarm, but she shook her head forcibly. They both knew this was the only way the Black Knights would leave now, "Back off! Return to base! Give him some room to work!"

There was no murmur of assent. There was no reply at all; only shouting and running as Black Knights turned tail and fled. She peaked up over the mound of rubble which was her only cover, and winced. There was barely anyone left of the hastily-gathered forces to run.

"Let's go," She hissed to Ohgi, even as she turned and took off into the flaming night.

The Knightmare ground to a halt, collapsing on its knee as ordered and lowering the helpless girl to the damp floor. It settled her gently into place against a pillar of rough, water-hewn stone, and then its over-exerted engines wheezed to a stop. Within its chambers, Suzaku made a similar sound and clutched at the gaping wound in his chest. Peering out the hole in the makeshift Lancelot's cabin, through which the slender lance had thrust to jab him much too close to the heart, he knew that this Knightmare would never move again.

He felt no emotion as he slipped out of the Knightmare's back. This had not been the real Lancelot; the model he had loved, and that Kallen had destroyed so many years ago. This had been a rag-tag combination of the best parts Lloyd could throw together to resemble the Lancelot in the hour Suzaku gave him before the Black Knights ran off to battle. This Lancelot-mimic had possessed none of the speed, strength, armor, or weapons of his old model. Once he had escaped the broken palace with Nunnally, its only purpose had been to get them as far away on its decrepit float-unit as possible.

And it had landed them well, on an island off the coast of the greater island of Japan. An island riddled with caves for shelter, animals for game, fruit for nourishment, and clear springs for water.

Yes, it had landed them well. Unfortunately, Suzaku would be unable to make use of these resources.

His vision tunneled as the blood flowing from his chest got ever darker. The last thing he felt was the mask of Zero slipping from his face as he toppled out of his seat in the Knightmare and fell through what seemed like an endless space towards the slick cave floor below.

Anastasia was roused abruptly from the world of her own mind as her teacher's notebook slammed down across the wood of her desk. She jerked her head upright to stare at the angry, creased face of Mr. Kanegawa. By the time she met his bloodshot blue eyes, her green eyes were already bored.

"Sir?" She murmured, her voice nothing more than a dull whisper. Her tone made Mr. Kanegawa, if that was possible, even angrier; to the point where he was unable to form a coherent thought. He sputtered and flushed purple.

Anastasia ignored his furious, inarticulate raging, turning in silence back to the window beside her desk. Uncomfortable, she pulled on the gold rim of the black collar of her uniform, trying to let some air in against her skin. Mr. Kanegawa kept his room too hot, and she was damp with sweat.

Flecks of the teacher's spit splattered across her desk, and she swiped them away with a careless hand. He was speaking in a coherent tongue, now, but she had no reason to listen. Her father was too rich, too powerful. There was nothing Mr. Kanegawa could do to her that would not get him in trouble with the entirety of Britannian nobility.

He slammed his book down on her desk again, and she heard him storm off. She sighed into the oppressive silence that followed, still staring out the window, not meeting the shocked eyes of her fellow students. Surely, they must be used to this by now…

It hadn't changed. Nothing had changed; in Britannia, in Japan, in the world that Lelouch vi Britannia had left behind in his death. Everything was almost exactly the same as it had been when Zero had risen to free the people from the tyranny of Charles di Britannia.

It was true, for ten years there had been a lull in the affairs of the world. A time of peace; no open wars, no terrorism, no overbearing government. Freedom and prosperity for all, on the surface.

But it would take more than Zero for human nature to change.

In Britannia, in Japan, in the world, the strong still preyed on the weak. The nobility still enslaved the working class, the Britannians still beat the Japanese into submission. It was done less openly now, in the shadows of dark allies where few people dared to look. But Anastasia walked the darker streets of Tokyo, where her fellow students did not dare venture. And she had seen the signs. She had seen the signs long before anyone else.

The bell rang, and she turned to sling her bag over her shoulder, stuffed with the books that she had never opened. The notebooks that were blank, the pens still uncapped. A calculator still in its box, pencils unsharpened, a sharpener with a blade still as keen as it had been the day she had purchased it. Six months into the school year, and she had yet to use any of her supplies. She had no need of it; notes were unnecessary when one remembered everything with the clarity of a photograph, of a video.

The rest of the class had already gone from the classroom by the time she slipped her seat back and stood. Absentminded, she pulled the hem of her black jacket straight, tightening the belt slightly around her slender waist to keep it in place. This uniform; another mark of her uniqueness, of her refusal to comply with the formal system. She was the only girl at Ashford Academy who wore the boy's uniform.

"Miss Holcomb," Mr. Kanegawa started, but she twirled around, turning her back on him, and drifted for the door. She heard his heavy-footed pursuit, and considered it with the same proud distance that she considered everything that happened around her, "Miss Holcomb, I must speak with you!"

But she had already slipped through the door and down the hall.

She knew it would catch up with her when she returned to school the next week. She slept weeks in the dormitories, and so the teachers generally knew where to find her. But it didn't matter all that much, in her eyes. He would not beat her, and words had no more affect on her than low grades or detentions. In fact, they were more likely to destroy Mr. Kanegawa. As a member of the working class, he was subject to the disappointment of Joseph Holcomb; the Britannian nobleman who had adopted her after her parents' unfortunate deaths.

It was her parents' deaths that had made Anastasia so aware of the way the world moved around her, of the way people interacted, of the differences between classes. It was her parents' deaths which had so irrevocably altered her view of the world, and of its people.

As long as Anastasia could remember, she had been deeply involved in Zero's revolution. Her parents; Yukimi and Tsubako; had both been Black Knights. And Sato Akemi, as she had been called then, had been their strongest supporter. And Zero's.

She had admired him. Looked up to him. She had worshiped and repeated his words as those of a god. On days when her parents were home, they had played together in the yard behind the shabby Shinjuku apartment they had called home. Her father had played the role of Zero, and she of Kallen Kouzuki, his most loyal Black Knight. His bodyguard.

The day Zero had betrayed the world; had come out as Lelouch vi Britannia, the Demon Emperor; had been the end of the only truly happy life that Anastasia had ever known. Yukimi and Tsubako had turned on Zero, shattering her faith in them, as she still believed in the man they had once called their leader. Two weeks later, both of them were dead, and she was a seven-year-old orphan, wandering the streets of Tokyo, finding news of Zero on the streets whenever she could.

She remembered, all too clearly, the day that Joseph Holcomb had found her and taken her as his own. But she remembered it for a different reason; a heart-breaking, life-changing reason.

Zero, Lelouch vi Britannia, the man she had idolized, and still idolized, died. He was killed, by another man calling himself Zero.

Anastasia knew the public story. They all remembered the horrible time when Zero had disappeared, and the world seemed as though it would fall to Britannia after all. The Black Knights claimed that Zero had been captured, and that Lelouch vi Britannia had been holding him hostage, while using his mask to take over the world for himself.

And for a time, Anastasia had believed that story. She let her heart; the heart of the child Akemi; to glow with the hope that the man she had idolized was still alive. That he was still there to fight for justice.

But in the ten years since Lelouch vi Britannia's death, Anastasia had come to understand the truth.

If the real Zero had returned, he would not have let things go the way they had gone. He would have been able to keep things in check.

Crime, oppression, prejudice, all of them still ran rampant. Zero; the real Zero, who had fought for the people, and not at the word of a paralyzed, useless empress; was dead.

Anastasia crossed the quiet grounds long after all the other students had retreated to the air-conditioned confines of their dorms. The sun beat blindingly down on her back, and without really thinking about it she stripped off the black jacket to reveal the white blouse; transparent with her sweat; she wore below. She shoved the jacket into her bag and hoisted it further onto her shoulder, fixing her eyes on the school gate. The students were not meant to leave the grounds after classes; not until dinner time. But Anastasia was not one to be confined. She broke into an easy, loping jog.

One long leap brought her hands to the top of the wrought-iron gate. Grunting with the effort, she heaved herself up, over the wall, and dropped onto the other side. She glanced back once, over her shoulder, at the serene grounds of Ashford Academy. And then she was gone, pacing off down the street. At the school, away from her classes, she was little more than a ghost. She would not be missed.

There was no reaction as Anastasia closed the door behind her. The house was dark and quiet, as though abandoned. She knew that her parents would be somewhere within the many rooms of the Holcomb mansion, but they would be too far away to realize that she had come home early. They always were. The vast expanse of their home was one of the reasons that her parents did not know she lacked a social life.

She dropped her pack carelessly next to the wall in the entrance hall, swinging her uniform coat off of her shoulders as she headed into the next room and up the great, curving marble staircase. Her footsteps echoed in the vaulted ceiling, ricocheting off the delicate golden imagery which decorated the edges of the rich wood. An empty sound for an empty beauty, she knew, for there was little worth to such material things. True value could be found only in one's self, and she had yet to discover it.

Anastasia's feet traced their own way through the halls of her Britannian home, guiding her to the gigantic room which had never felt right after her childhood in the tiny Shinjuku apartment. She hung her jacket up on a hook on the door; a sort of flag to let her parents know that she was there; and then she shut it behind her and turned to face the room itself.

It was sparsely decorated; a desk in one corner, bare except for a single pencil and a book left open on the page she had broken off of. A thin mattress lying on the floor, beside a bed stripped of its covers. A vase of flowers on the bed-stand, accompanied by a plain-framed photograph of a happy Japanese family in the uniforms of the Black Knights. All on the same side of the room, leaving the half to her right entirely bare.

Apart from the sword propped on its stand next to the empty wall.

It was a beautiful weapon; a Japanese katana of the finest make. Hand-forged by the most talented of sword-smiths, this weapon had been her grandfather's wedding gift to her father. It had never been used; its blade still shimmered in lethal silver sharpness, the black cloth in which the handle was wrapped still spotless, not yet worn to the shape of a master's familiar hand. It stood in sharp contrast to the wooden practice-sword leaning in the corner behind the desk, whose handle was worn to the point of glistening polish.

Kicking her shoes off as she went, Anastasia crossed her room to lift the wooden weapon in two hands. Instinctively, her hand found the shallow dips where her fingers had worn grips into the carven handle. She let the sword hang at her side, clenched comfortably between her fingers, as she took her seat at the desk and glanced at the open book there.

It was a diary; the one left by her parents when they had turned their backs on Zero. Anastasia had read it many, many times, and with her perfect memory had no need to read it again. She knew precisely what the book said. But sometimes, she simply needed to gaze at it, to touch the scratched, inked paper which was all she really had left of her parents.

Her eyes rested on a line as familiar as if she had said it herself, and as always, she frowned.

_Perhaps there is no such thing as true good…_

Three knocks at her bedroom door, muffled by the jacket hanging there, broke Anastasia's gaze from the scrawled black ink. She reached up, shutting the diary with a snap and shoving it roughly off of the back of the desk, to rest between wood-panel and wall.

"Yes?" She called, swinging her wooden blade up to rest on the desk.

"Ana?"

Anastasia grimaced at the sweet sound of her mother's voice.

"Ana, are you in there?"

"Yes, Angelina." Anastasia responded, her voice bored. She could almost feel her adoptive mother's disapproval at being addressed by name. It was an argument the two had been having for years; Anastasia simply refused to acknowledge the woman as her mother.

"Come down to dinner, would you?" The woman simpered. Anastasia's face darkened further. She could hardly stand the weak-willed woman who was Joseph Holcomb's wife.

"Actually," Anastasia started, before she could stop herself. It was an instinctive reaction to receiving and order from Angelina; she found she simply could not obey. Her mind raced as she searched for something she could say to get her out of it, "I'm going to dinner with some friends." She announced desperately, "Out in town. I just came home to change."

There was a moment of silence outside; Angelina deciding whether or not this might be true. But the woman had no idea what Anastasia's school life was really like. She did not know that Anastasia had no friends with which to go to dinner. And so there was no way she could really object.

"Take your phone with you." Angelina mumbled reluctantly. Anastasia could hear that she was already turning away from the door, and did not respond. In her mind, she cursed herself for the performance. Believable though it may have been, now she really had to go out, or one of her five siblings would stumble in on her, and she would be forced to join the family for dinner.

She returned her sword carefully to its place against the wall and moved to the small closet door in the back corner. There, she began rooting through what few garments she actually owned, hunting for something which might pass as city dress.

It seemed to take an impossibly long time to collect a simple pair of jeans and a white blouse. Everything she owned was for school, parties, or something else she had no choice in. Any time she was not forced to be elsewhere, Anastasia stayed in her room and thought, or practiced with her swords. The outer world held no interest for her.

She swung a light blue jacket over her shoulders, bound her blue-black hair in a tight bun, and slipped out her open window to drop off the low awning outside. In a matter of moments, she had crossed the mansion gardens and vaulted the fence, and she was free on the streets of Tokyo once more.

Not that she considered this free in any way. In fact, she hated the streets of Tokyo almost as much as she hated her school, almost as much as she hated her house. Almost as much as she hated her own idle life.

Because, out here, there was even less that was beautiful. Out here, in the open, she could see every wrong that authority had ever done to the people.

She paced in stormy silence down the streets, towards the city center. Crowds of people; Japanese and Britannian alike; faded out of her path, as though pushed by her fury. She tried very hard not to see the indecencies of the real world; the problems she wished so deeply that she could fix. But in the end, nothing but the blindness of ignorance, which she lacked, could have kept her from noticing the spots of darkness in a foolishly comfortable world.

They hid themselves away, as the rest of the world wanted them to. They cringed in the deepest shadows they could find, under the shelter of alleyways or awnings, in abandoned doorways or behind dumpsters. Bits of pain and terror that scrambled away as the richer, more fortunate citizens strode by them without seeing them. Children curled up in rags, with nothing to eat. Men and women, sick and tired, lying on the street and waiting for merciful death to claim them. It was not uncommon for Anastasia to notice the occasional corpse lying in the road, which no one else seemed to recognize as a corpse.

No, things had not gotten better since Zero had risen. Things had gotten much worse.

Because now it was not only the Japanese who were in danger.

Something was different tonight, however. On a normal day, Anastasia would have turned towards the darker side of town, gone to walk among her fellow Japanese. The people who, like her, did not believe that Lelouch vi Britannia's death had left behind a virtual paradise, and who had hunkered down in the shadows to wait for that illusion to collapse. Normally, she would have gone to them, because they shared a like mind to hers.

But today, something made her continue in the light. She did not cut into her usual alley shortcut, did not make for the ghettos of Shinjuku. She headed straight for the center of Tokyo.

It was not a long walk. Not for her. She spent most of her time on her feet, moving to escape her own mind. Running from her own useless lifestyle. Never able to escape the world that she simply despised. As such, the walk from her family's mansion to the center of Tokyo left her with too much pent up energy, where it would have exhausted another. She glanced around at the shops and towering skyscrapers. A sense of anxiety, of nervous excitement, came over her. She knew it was going to happen several minutes before it actually did.

She was just crossing a street, and she had reached the center of the intersection when the glass screens built into the walls of the high buildings stopped flashing their ads. All around her, the other citizens froze as the image changed, and a pretty young reporter flashed into twenty-story view. Anastasia rolled to a stop near the edge of the road, staring up the side of a particularly tall building. Nothing moved. Even the people in cars had stopped to stare at the reporter as they waited for her to speak.

"My apologies, citizens of Japan." She started, her voice going sour around the name which was that of the country. Anastasia knew the woman; she had attended several of the reporter's parties growing up. Maribelle Finch, a Britannian noble who had lived through the Black Knight rebellion. One who still thought of Japan as Area Eleven. Anastasia's blood boiled with irritation as the woman continued, "I interrupt your daily proceedings to bring you this most unfortunate report. The Britannian Palace has fallen to the Chinese Federation."

There were shocked whispers throughout the crowd. The reporter's self-assured voice was shaking.

"We know little about the conflict. Word has it that the Empress and her loyal knight, Zero, escaped, but they have not been seen since. The palace guard and the Black Knights held the enemy off long enough for the Empress to escape, before falling under the siege at roughly three in the morn-"

Suddenly, Anastasia could no longer hear the booming voice of the broadcast. She was buffeted roughly away from the towering building she had been watching, and as she looked down she realized the effect that the reporter's words had on the populace.

The Chinese Federation was invading. The Empress and the miracle man were missing.

Tokyo had dissolved into panic.

Anastasia was shoved roughly from one side to the next, thrown in every direction until she had no choice but to join in and follow the flow of the running citizens. She ran at pace with the panicked citizens, feeling strangely calm for the situation. Nothing but irritation at being forced back towards her own home, where she knew her family would be in a similar state.

She fought hard against the current, running straight for a time, and then leaping sideways towards the edge of the road, hoping to find sanctuary in one of the dark alleys only she dared to frequent. She was hurled to the ground, the breath knocked out of her by a foot in her ribs, but she forced herself to keep going, dragging herself to her feet and diving for the sidewalk and safety.

There, she collapsed against the wall, clutching her side and gasping for air. Her eyes traced the wild path of the crowds racing by. People were screaming, running for their lives from a foe which was still more than a thousand miles away. She knew that, when the authorities came back out in the morning, there would be many dead bodies for them to clean up.

As her breathing leveled out, Anastasia pushed away from the wall, starting back up the street in the direction she had come. The crowds were not dying down, the panic not lessening. The authorities had not yet arrived to calm things down. The madness confused her senses; too many things to hear, to see, to feel. When she passed by the alley mouth, she almost missed it.

Perhaps it would have been better if she had.


	3. Episode Two: A New Power

Episode Two – A New Power

It didn't really register at first; not as more than a flicker of emerald out of the corner of her eye. But suddenly the roar of the panicking crowds died down, and as Anastasia turned to gaze into the alleyway, she felt her entire world shift beneath her feet.

She had never met the woman. She knew that; with a memory like hers, she truly never forgot a face. And yet, she felt that she knew the emerald-haired creature who was hovering at the back of the alleyway. Anastasia felt the power around her; a strange sense of certainty, of confidence that did not come in a mere mortal. That did not come in someone like Anastasia.

Without quite knowing why, Anastasia turned into the alley, approaching the woman as she might have approached Zero, when she was a child. The woman's tawny eyes followed Anastasia's movements without emotion, a huntress watching her prey.

It seemed an eternity, even after Anastasia stopped in front of the woman, before she spoke.

"I knew I had chosen right in you," The woman observed in a cool voice, throwing back a strand of her overlong green hair. Anastasia frowned, stepping back slightly. Something about this woman just wasn't right…

"Who are you?" She asked warily.

The strange creature gave a light laugh. Amusement flickered briefly in her golden eyes.

"Wouldn't _you_ like to know?" She taunted.

Anastasia narrowed her eyes angrily, whipping around and starting to walk away.

"Wait," The woman called after her, a note of desperation in her voice. Anastasia could not help but pause at the entrance of the alley, glancing over her shoulder, "Don't you wish there was something you could do to change it all?"

Anastasia stiffened. Slowly, impossibly slowly, she turned back to face the stranger.

A tense silence fell over the meeting hall as the Black Knights listened to the panic taking place on the streets above. Kallen held her breath, waiting for it to end, for it was a sound she found impossible to ignore. The sound of her own failure.

"Come on, Kallen," Ohgi coaxed, putting one strong hand on her shoulder, which she threw off with a jerk, "It wasn't your fault. There was no way we could have beat them."

"We abandoned him," Kallen answered tonelessly, "Abandoned him to those Chinese monsters. And now he's gone."

"We don't know that, Kallen," Ohgi insisted, "He's always survived before."

"It only takes once." Kallen snapped.

Everyone in the room flinched.

"What do you think he's doing, anyways?" It was the rich, arrogant voice of Rakshata. Everyone glanced around in surprise. She had said nothing since they had returned to the base, "Where can he possibly go? He's an outlaw in all parts of the world now."

"You forget, Rakshata," Kallen pointed out coolly, "That Zero had his beginning as an outlaw in all parts of the world."

There was another long moment of silence, and Kallen knew they were all wondering.

What could Zero possibly be doing…?

Awareness brought with it pain, as it always did. His head ached, his limbs spiked with pain every time he tried to move them. Drawing breath hurt more than it was worth.

God, he hated awareness.

Slowly, more and more of that silent mist dropped away, and he stirred. Not because he wanted to; no, he was in too much pain to want to move. He stirred because he had to. Even through the blackness of would-be death, he had retained on certain truth.

Nunnally was still in danger.

As though his thoughts had shown on his face, a wet cloth was pressed to his brow.

"Suzaku," Nunnally whispered, "Are you awake, Suzaku?"

He stirred, trying to force his eyes open. Blinding pain shot through his ribs, and he gasped. Nunnally cried out, and the cloth returned to his face.

Hissing in pain, Suzaku tried again. This time, he managed to force his eyes open. At first, he was greeted with nothing but blinding white. He flinched, squeezing his eyes shut again for a moment.

"Suzaku?" Nunnally repeated.

He opened his eyes, squinting at her. She gave a sigh of relief, lowering her hand, nearly dropping the cloth.

"You're alright," She whispered, her large blue eyes filling with tears.

"H-hn…" Suzaku struggled to sit up, catching his breath in a gasp as he wrenched his injured muscles. Nunnally reached out anxiously, but he waved her off, pushing himself to his knees. But he didn't have the strength to stand.

"Don't hurt yourself," Nunnally whispered fearfully. Suzaku shook his head, ignoring the spinning it caused.

"No," He whispered, his voice choked, "I'm fine…"

Slowly, he raised his head, looking around.

The cave was large and dark, the steady drip of water echoing through it, striking pain through his aching head. He didn't really remember coming here. He'd been in such a blur of blood-loss when they'd arrived…

"Where are we…?" He wondered aloud.

Nunnally glanced away, "I… don't know." She murmured, "Some island, I think."

Suzaku frowned, glaring around warily. It made sense, he had to admit. When they'd escaped from the palace, he'd made straight for the sea, where the enemy wouldn't be able to follow them. Not that he'd had any clue where he was going, in the end…

And if he had no clue…

How were the Black Knights supposed to find them?

The city was dark and quiet. In the wake of the night's panic, no one seemed to want to lave the confines of their houses. Everyone seemed to think that the Chinese Federation was going to show up in Tokyo that night.

It was a silly notion, really. China had invaded Britannia. It took a long time to get armies across oceans, even now. They were safe…

Tonight, at least.

Either way, Malcolm didn't much care. There was no one out tonight. Which made the streets much easier to patrol.

He was half way through his shift. He had started at midnight, and he couldn't help the irritation that filled him. Two hours had passed, and he hadn't seen anyone else on the streets. It seemed even the homeless had hidden themselves away.

So why was Malcolm patrolling? For what? Even Kallen, one of their strongest leaders, had admitted that there was no chance of invasion tonight. And no one was out…

Something moved just within his field of view.

Reacting on instincts trained into him by the Black Knights, Malcolm whirled around, raising his gun and aiming it into the alley.

"Who's there?" He demanded.

No one answered. Not that he had expected them to. They wouldn't, if they were smart. And it was too dark to see anything…

Moving slowly, Malcolm crept to the mouth of the alley. He peered into the blackness, hunting out the deepest shadows. There seemed to be a figure there, hiding in the gloom…

A blinding pain shot up his spine, and then there was nothing.

The woman had said nothing since they had left the alley.

C.C., she called herself. This mysterious, sarcastic woman with the strange, golden eyes. Anastasia had never met anyone like her. Passionate and cold, whimsical and focused, naïve and yet the wisest creature Anastasia could imagine. She lived at both ends of the scale, never in the middle like most people. And Anastasia could not shake the sensation that this C.C. was not, in the end, quite human.

It did not help that she had no idea where she was being taken. They had been walking for an impossible amount of time, and yet it seemed merely seconds. And Anastasia had the distinct impression that she had stopped walking some time back. That she had, somehow, left her body behind. There was an eerie silence about this place she could see. The only sounds were the clack of her shoes against the unnaturally cold stone stairs C.C. guided her over. The clack of her shoes… and an odd rushing that seemed to take the place of silence.

"Where are we?" She demanded, nervous. C.C.'s only response was a short laugh and a tug on her hand, telling her to keep moving. Mostly telling her to shut up. Which Anastasia did. After all, she had agreed to this. Agreed to meet whomever had sent C.C., caught up by the woman's last remark.

_Don't you wish there was something you could do to change it all? _

Yes, she did wish that. And she was starting to realize how stupid that wish really was.

What had she gotten herself into?

Without any warning, Anastasia raised her foot to find the next stair, and found only open air. She stumbled, reaching out to catch herself. She scraped her hand across the cold stone, feeling warm blood swell out to wet her skin. Flushing slightly, she scrambled back to her feet, only to find that her blunder had been met with laughter.

Two types of laughter.

Anastasia froze.

The first laugh, she knew almost too well, after the long journey to wherever and whenever this was. The chiming, mocking laugh of C.C.

But the second voice was more different from C.C.'s than Anastasia could believe. Deep, full, commanding, and more than a little bit mad. It sent waves of shivers down her spine, and she reached up slowly, pulling the blindfold off of her face.

"Hello, Anastasia,"

The blindfold slipped with a soft rush from her suddenly useless hand.


	4. Episode Three: The Graves of Friends

Episode Three – The Graves of Friends

It was just like what had happened with C.C., and yet… not. She felt like she knew the man standing before her, though she had not met him before.

Only this time, it was a reasonable thing to feel…

There was not a soul in the world who did not know his name.

"Lelouch vi Britannia…" Anastasia whispered. She started to step back, but found only empty air behind her. She very nearly fell again, drawing laughter from both C.C. and Lelouch once more.

"Anastasia Holcomb," Lelouch returned the greeting as Anastasia hastily regained her balance, "Or should I call you Sato Akemi?"

Anastasia couldn't answer. What did you say to a tyrant who had, supposedly, been dead for a decade? She stayed where she was, standing at the edge of a marble platform, suspended between two columns, suspended between the world's most infamous villain and a girl who, somehow, made her even more nervous than he did. He, at the very least, was human…

Lelouch's eyes glittered with humor in the golden light that surrounded him. They were a blinding violet, intense and intelligent, that made Anastasia shiver. He looked good, for someone who had been dead for ten years. Young. Like he had not aged a year since his death.

As far as Anastasia could see, nothing had changed between this Lelouch, and the pictures in the papers of his death. Except, perhaps, that now he was no longer coated in his own blood.

"What do you want?" She breathed, shivering slightly, wishing that she could run back down those long stone stairs. Just wishing she could escape. But knowing that she had no way to get out of wherever this was. Not without their permission.

"C.C. told you," Lelouch replied evenly. He didn't seem at all concerned by Anastasia's fear. It was as though he had expected it. As though he had expected every word she was speaking now.

She didn't like that feeling.

"Told me what?" She asked in a harsh whisper. C.C., standing on the stair behind her, gave another mocking laugh. Lelouch just responded with a chilly smile.

"You hate your life," He observed, starting towards her. Anastasia didn't dare to back away; she was too close to the edge, and she had no way of knowing how far she would fall, "You hate being unable to do anything."

"Yes," She agreed. Because that was all she could do. Tell him the truth.

"You see more than most." He continued, "You are not blind, like the fools who walk around you."

"How do you know?" Anastasia whispered. He He He had almost reached her now. Standing barely three feet away, he suddenly looked; and felt; larger than life.

It was C.C. who answered.

"When the panic started," She murmured, "I chose you because you didn't run."

"You were expecting it, weren't you?" Lelouch asked, taking another step closer. In spite of herself, Anastasia flinched; he was so tall. And very close, "You were expecting an invasion. Why?"

"It was inevitable." She answered hurriedly, "The human race is not meant for peace. Someone will always be vying for control."

"So she is perceptive," C.C. spoke to Lelouch now, as though Anastasia wasn't there, "But does she have what we need?"

Lelouch shot C.C. a glance, silencing her.

"You remember, don't you, Anastasia?" Lelouch continued as though he had not been interrupted, "More than anyone should remember."

"Like a picture," Anastasia whispered, "Like a movie. Every sight, every sound. I remember."

Lelouch smirked lightly.

"That is what we need."

Without another word, he reached out, placing his long fingers over her face. Anastasia gasped as he gripped her by chin and temples. His strength was unnatural. Impossible. What was this creature?

"What are you doing?" She demanded as a shudder ran down her spine. Vague images began to flicker at the back of her mind.

"You want the power, don't you?" Lelouch prodded gently, "You want the strength to do what you have never been able to do? To stop what only you can see is happening?"

Anastasia could not respond. Her vision half obscured, she was sinking in the brilliance of his violet eye. A symbol burned brightly in that eye, shining into her mind, invading, and bringing with it all the sights and sounds and terrors of war. She began to shiver violently.

"Will you make this contract with me?" He whispered.

And then Anastasia was falling, plummeting from a height which she could not fathom. Darkness surrounded her, and yet it was not darkness. It was a great expanse of whiteness, of nothing, filled with scratches and indefinable lines. She was falling, and yet she was standing within this great whiteness.

Then it all changed, and Anastasia's lips parted in a scream which produced no sound.

There were other people here, and yet there were not. She was all alone, because only she seemed able to see the others. Billions of silhouettes, each one vaguely resembling someone she knew, their faces morphing in and out of view, in and out of each other. They shambled aimlessly across a great plain of white, and yet the shambled with great purpose, all moving in the same direction, at the same painfully slow pace.

Slow, was it? Anastasia began to wonder if they were going fast, and she was, in fact, the one who was moving slowly…

"Well, Akemi?" Lelouch's voice came to her as the vision flickered, flashing the many brilliant colors which she had seen reflected in the symbol in his eye, "Do you wish to contract this power?"

Anastasia caught her breath, though it made no sound here. Images of great beings, falling, struck down by an even more ultimate power. Pictures of people running, screaming. A church, with a bleeding child strung across its door, screaming for her mother…

"Do you want to change these things?"

A burning desire invaded her faltering heart. She opened her mouth, and with this desire, her voice sounded once more.

"I accept this contract."

Searing agony shot up her spine, and the white world burst with colors. But once again, she had no voice with which to scream. Her spine stiffened, crunching together around her nerves. Her hands spread open as she lost all control over her muscles.

And then the white was gone.

~v~

Everyone in the room jumped as Tamaki's fist came down on the table, upsetting several bottles of water in their owners' laps. Everyone except Kallen, at least. The young woman, seated at the head of the table, was so lost in her own thoughts that she hardly registered Tamaki's explosion.

The panic the previous night had been a distraction to her ever since. She had hardly registered what the Black Knights had gathered to argue about. She was too lost in her own disturbed thoughts to really try to pay attention. What were they going to do…?

She was vaguely aware of Tamaki screaming something about the weakness of the Black Knights. How they had abandoned so many people by agreeing to that stupid treaty and destroying their Knightmares. Well, that was true. If the Black Knights had been fighting with a full arsenal, they could have stood a chance at the palace. But no… that wasn't quite right…

Now he was shouting about how they should have kept a closer watch on the Chinese Federation. That was true, too. How could they have been so foolish as to believe that all of the great powers of the world would just give up their weapons for the sake of peace? Mankind had been fighting for much too long for that. War was all that men knew…

And yet, somehow, that wasn't quite the reason, either…

"And where was Zero that whole time?" Tamaki screamed. Kallen became fully aware of his voice only when he spoke that name.

"What do you mean, Tamaki?" Ohgi asked in a weak voice. He was still trying to keep a cap on the calm in the room, though the newly-returned Kallen could see that pretty much every other member of the Knights wanted to pull out their gun and shoot the man. He was being so noisy…

"I meant that, in the old days, Zero would never have gotten stuck in there! He would have found a way to escape with the Empress! I tell you, something is wrong with Zero! He isn't performing like he used to!"

If they had jumped at Tamaki's explosion, they quite nearly fell out of their chairs when Kallen shot to her feet, upsetting her chair.

"That's it!" She gasped, a blaze of battle flaring in her eyes once more.

"K-Kallen?" Ohgi gasped. Tamaki, too, looked more than a little surprised. When had she started agreeing with him?

"We've lost the mainland," Kallen stated, suddenly animated, leaning against the table she had nearly thrown at them, "We've lost most of our colonies with it. All of our Knightmares were in the hangar near the palace. Most of our guns were held in our mainland bases."

"So far, you haven't said anything good." Kallen glared at Cornelia when she spoke.

"That's my point." Kallen answered urgently, "Zero would never have let this sort of thing happen, back then. Not if he was going to disappear."

"So, what are you saying?" Chiba asked sharply, "He's not helping us, so he must be dead? Really encouraging."

"No," Kallen disagreed, shaking her head rapidly, "I'm saying that there's been something different with him. Something wrong with the way he works. Ever since he killed… L-Lelouch."

Several of the Knights glanced among themselves when she choked over his name. It was no secret that Kallen had been a school friend of the demon emperor. And it was widely suspected that she had not supported his death.

"I'm not sure I understand…" Ohgi murmured.

"We have to look for Zero," Kallen pushed forwards, ignoring the mutters and glances that she was receiving from all directions, "Zero can help us, if we can help him. I'm sure of it."

There was a moment of silence.

"Well…" Ohgi murmured, "I suppose it's decided, then."

"Alright, fine!" Tamaki snapped, "We'll find out what happened to Zero. But how exactly are we supposed to know where he is? He's disappeared, Kallen! Along with everyone else who was in the palace!"

Kallen fell silent, thinking. The Knights held their breath.

If anyone would know where Zero was, it would be-

"I call a break." Kallen murmured, not looking up. There were stunned whispers around the table, "I'll call you when I have more information."

~v~

"Are you ready, Anastasia?" Lelouch's voice seemed to echo in her mind, rather than coming through the air, though Anastasia could see his lips move when he spoke.

They stood now on the edge of the vast marble platform, in the same spot where he had invaded her mind. But hours had passed, and now, many hundreds of things had changed.

Her life just the first among them.

"Yes," She whispered, lifting her face to gaze at him through the film of the mask. He looked tired, somewhat distracted. And yet, there was a new energy to him. His impossibly bright eyes were even more brilliant than they had been.

There was triumph there, now.

"This will be difficult." He reminded her as she tugged absently at the towering collar of her cloak. It forced her to hold her head much higher than she normally would have, gave her an appearance of incredible arrogance.

An appearance that was not, perhaps, misplaced.

"I know," Anastasia answered.

"You remember what I have told you to do?" He asked quietly, "It is absolutely crucial that you make contact tonight. Any later, and it may be too late."

"I understand,"

A tiny smile flickered at the corner of Lelouch's lip.

"You are a valuable tool, Anastasia." He told her, "Even I could not have predicted these results. Your Geass is powerful beyond anything that I had imagined."

"Then the war will be over just that much faster."

Lelouch laughed quietly. Somewhere in the distance, Anastasia could hear C.C.'s laughter mirroring his own. It was eerie, how these two moved around each other. As though they shared one mind, one soul.

"Do well, Akemi." Lelouch murmured, "And do not expose us, as I did."

Moving a bit awkwardly in this unfamiliar uniform, Anastasia bowed to him.

"Yes, Zero," She whispered.

And then she turned and started back down the golden marble staircase.

~v~

The first thing Malcolm knew as he woke was blinding pain. Intense agony, riding up and down his spine in an endless torrent. He wanted to scream, to cry out. But something was bound into his mouth, and kept him from making a sound.

Hat had happened? He couldn't remember anything. He had been patrolling after the panic. There shouldn't have been anyone, or anything, out that night. No invasion, none of the frightened citizens. So where was he? Why were his hands shackled down to the hard, cold surface on which he lay?

His eyes flew open. There were voices here, with him. Faces.

A man in a white coat standing over him. Laughing at his expression. Malcolm tried to speak, to demand what they were doing to him. But all that came out was senseless mumbling, and all that he received for an answer was raucous laughter.

"You will be of great use to us, Malcolm Tresset." Malcolm's head snapped around as the woman spoke, but she was nowhere to be seen. Instead, he was confronted with walls of mirror, with the image of his terrified face reflected a billion times on every side.

"Yes," The man who stood over him agreed, "Great use."

And then a mask was clapped over his mouth. It only took a moment before Malcolm sank away again.

~v~

Nunnally shifted nervously on the rocky cave floor. With no way to keep track of the passing of time, she had no way of knowing how long it had been since Suzaku had gone. She had begged him not to leave, begged him to stay and rest some more. Regain more of his strength.

But Suzaku had always had an uncanny ability to heal. And, as he said, it was necessary that they find out where they had landed…

That didn't stop Nunnally from being terribly frightened. What if Suzaku never came back? What if the Federation was out there, and they killed him or captured him? So many things would end, then. Zero would be unmasked. Her brother's sacrifice would be revealed.

She would be left alone to die on this forsaken island, wherever it was.

Something moved towards the mouth of the cave, and with a whimper Nunnally began dragging herself across the cave floor, further into the darkness. Footsteps echoed off of the slick walls, and Nunnally raised one hand to cover her mouth and stifle the sound of her terrified gasps.

"Don't be frightened, Nunnally," The voice was calm, coaxing. Nunnally's eyes widened.

She knew that voice. It came from a time before her brother had changed. When he had still lived with her.

Had still cared for her more than anything in the world.

"C.C.?" She whispered, lowering a hand from her mouth.

And in that same instant, another voice came from the cave mouth.

"C.C.?" Suzaku cried.

~v~

The gravel crunched softly under Kallen's feet as she entered the massive graveyard. She gazed around through tired, uncertain eyes. In the back of her mind, she was wondering when this had become a place of peace and solace for her. Graveyards… most people were frightened of them, weren't they?

But then, two of her very close friends were buried here…

It was to their graves that she walked, now. Her steps were nervous, quick and uncertain. It was the way everyone walked, these days. She had noticed it on her way here. People were frightened, always ready to bolt, when the bombs started to fall. She wondered why she was like that, too? She knew the Federation wouldn't invade immediately. They were busy on other landmasses, taking other large empires, absorbing them into one before they had to confront the weakened Black Knights. The Chinese Federation had time, and they would take it.

So why was Kallen so nervous…?

She traveled in a daze between the long lines of graves. They were all different; different sizes, shapes, types of stone. But most of the difference lay in what was written on them. Kallen hardly saw the names; most didn't have names, they had been too badly burned when they were found to be identified. Most just said "mother" or "child" or "woman", and gave the dates of their death.

It was these dates which scalded themselves within Kallen's mind.

Almost all of these deaths had occurred during the revolution.

It had taken years for Kallen to really recognize the consequences of the war she had waged at Zero's side. She wasn't sure exactly when she had realized it. Perhaps it had been when Shirley died. Perhaps when she killed Suzaku.

Perhaps… she had not realized it until Lelouch had been slain.

She had a horrible feeling that this was the truth. The deaths of two of her friends had not mattered as much as the death of that villain…

And as she drew close to the graves of those two dear friends, she realized that their deaths still didn't matter as much as his.

Shirley and Suzaku, buried side-by-side, in the rather small section of the graveyard which was reserved for the dead whom the army had been able to identify. These were the only names that she saw as she approached. Shirley and Suzaku. She didn't even really register their last names. Those names hadn't mattered to her when they were together. They had just been Shirley and Suzaku. Students at Ashford Academy. Friends in the Student Council.

Or… so she had tried to convince herself.

There was a discomfort now, as she analyzed what she had really thought of them. An uncertainty. Why… did she feel something akin to hatred?

But she knew why…

Suzaku was easy to explain. Their friendship had been shattered when she had learned that he was the pilot of the Lancelot, and when he had learned that she was the pilot of the Guren. Whatever warm feelings they had for one another had been shoved into the back corner, disposed of for the time being, in the face of something which was much, much more important. In face of a foolish war which had killed millions, and changed little.

But Shirley? Her discomfort with Shirley was neither as reasonable, nor as simple to understand. At first, she had thought it was because the girl was so… off. Always distracted, always losing things or forgetting things, always tripping or messing up. A weak girl. The sort of girl which irritated Kallen.

But she wasn't so sure. Could it had been… possibly… because Shirley shared Kallen's secret affections for Lelouch?

Kallen shook her head viciously. She had come here to think, perhaps to pray, to come up with a plan for finding Zero. But she couldn't concentrate here. There was too much uncomfortable history. Too much she wished that she could change.

She didn't really think about where she was going when she moved away from the graves. She just drifted, lost in her own emotions. Everything seemed to be falling apart around her, and she knew that, in the best of conditions, she wasn't the person that she would go to for help.

_If only Lelouch were here…_

Kallen looked up just in time to avoid slamming into the grave in front of her. She gasped, dodging to one side. She had walked all the way to the furthest corner of the graveyard without realizing it. This was the corner she usually avoided; the corner that they had fenced in with bars that made the area looked like a jail-cell, with the branches of a gnarled oak as a ceiling. Kallen shuddered, peering into the shadows beyond the fence.

There was only one grave here, isolated by iron bars from the rest of the graves as a symbol. A warning. For this was not just the grave of a victim of the war.

This was the grave of the cause of it.

"Lelouch…" She whispered, moving slowly forwards. Why had she come here…? What had driven her here, of all places? She had never visited his grave before. She had avoided it at all costs.

Carefully, she opened the wrought iron gates, and stepped onto the undecorated soil beyond. The grave was small and flat, with no grandeur. Because Lelouch had deserved none, right? Once it was proven that he had never really been Zero… he no longer deserved that glory…

Why didn't Kallen believe her own thoughts?

"Oh, Lelouch," She whispered, kneeling before she really thought about it to touch the slick stone. It had not been graced with a name; that was unnecessary. Everyone looking at that prison-like corner would have known who rested within, "What am I going to do? How do I find Zero?"

She almost screamed when her cell phone rang. Flopping back on the bare dirt, she scrambled to pull the little device out of her back pocket, flipping it open. Hastily, she crushed the phone to her ear.

"M-moshi, moshi?" She gasped, startled by the sudden call.

But the low, intense voice which answered her greeting was ten times the shock.

"It's good to hear your voice again, Q-1."


	5. Episode Four: Zero Resignations

Episode Four – Zero Resignations

"It's good to hear your voice again, Q-1." The resonating voice was impossible to mistake, and it was absolutely impossible for her to be hearing it. She would never have mistaken this voice; the voice which she had first heard on this very cell-phone, and then later on, when she had learned what she had thought for so long to be Zero's true identity.

"L-lelouch…?" She whispered, unaware of what she was saying. At the other end of the line, she could hear his laughter; familiar, despite the fact that she had so rarely heard it.

"Zero," The voice corrected, "Just Zero."

"But… Zero… Zero is…"

"Not who you think he is." The voice corrected quietly, "And not where you think he is."

"What do you mean?" Kallen whispered.

Why did this feel so natural? To stand here, beside Lelouch's grave, while she spoke over the phone to someone who could only be, and yet could not be, Lelouch himself? Why did it feel so normal to simply hear his orders, and question further into what he needed? To simply accept his words as they came?

Why did this feel more like Zero than the man she had been following for years?

"You can not look for your Zero where you expect him to be, Q-1." Lelouch's voice reminded her gently, "That is the surest way never to find a man with the name of Zero."

"You know where he is…" Kallen's voice came dazed, quiet. She couldn't believe what was happening to her. It was impossible… impossible…

Why did she keep repeating that? Wasn't it the very man she now spoke to, or thought she spoke to, who had taught her that nothing was impossible?

"I know where he is." Lelouch agreed calmly.

"Then where is he?" Kallen even managed to startle herself with her outburst. The birds in the tree overhead scattered into the sky as her old fire returned, "Tell me! Where is Zero?"

"Your Zero is hidden from the Federation, on an island in the Pacific Ocean. I am sure you remember it well."

Kallen stiffened, staring straight ahead. Yes, she remembered that island. There had been four of them there, lost on it. She with Suzaku, Lelouch with Euphemia. The four of them, stuck together, trapped there by a force that none of them understood.

Did Lelouch understand it, now? Had he gained that knowledge?

'No,' she thought, 'Lelouch is dead.'

"Who are you?" Kallen hissed, "Tell me, right now."

On the other end of the line, the man who sounded just like Lelouch laughed again.

"I am Zero," He repeated quietly, "Gather the Knights. Take them to sea. Sail to the island, Kallen. That is where you will find your Empress and her Knight."

And then, with a soft click, Lelouch was gone.

~v~

For a moment, they were all frozen. Suzaku staring at C.C. Nunnally staring at both of them.

C.C. staring at the wall.

"What are you doing here?" Suzaku finally found his voice, though it came out in a strangled tone. His eyes were huge. He was looking at the girl as though she were something inhuman, disgusting.

Well, he was right on the first count.

"I came to see the Empress, of course," C.C. answered, lowering her eyes to gaze at him with shocking steadiness. It seemed that she did not need to blink, "I assume, as you are unmasked, that you have disobeyed your orders."

Suzaku turned bright red.

"I-it's Nunnally!" He objected.

C.C. laughed, shaking her head, "And you're Zero." She observed, "And that means that no one is supposed to know your secrets."

Suzaku flinched as though she had slapped him. She was right, of course. The command to hide his identity had been absolute, and Lelouch's last. That he had told Nunnally the truth would always feel a bit like a betrayal.

But then, it had felt like a betrayal when he was keeping the secret from her, anyways.

"Why are you here?" Nunnally spoke, her voice a nervous whisper. C.C. and Suzaku both turned to gaze at her.

"I'm supposed to warn you not to leave the cave." C.C. responded, "They're coming to find you."

"How do they know where we are?" Suzaku demanded. If the Knights could find them, the Federation could find them faster.

"The Federation won't find you here," C.C. reassured him, "At least, not until your Knights start to circle."

"But… it's impossible." Suzaku objected, "No one can find this island. That's why we were stuck here the first time."

C.C.'s lip flicked.

"Stay hidden, and everything will be alright."

~v~

She had fled the graveyard in a virtual panic. She had run through the city, blind to the citizens that bolted out of her path. She had run down the street to the place where the Knights hid.

And she had run through the base to reach the meeting hall.

Only now did Kallen stop running. She stood gasping before the rest of the senior Knights, and they stared at her as they might have stared if they knew Lelouch was alive.

She knew she couldn't tell them that. They wouldn't believe her, for one. And they were not likely to support her cause, if they knew she thought Lelouch was, somehow, behind it. She couldn't tell them that Zero had called her, either, because if his phone was in range, they would already have found him.

This was going to be more difficult than she had anticipated.

"Kallen?" Ohgi whispered, shocked by her sudden, high-speed appearance, "Did… you find something?"

Straightening up slowly, Kallen drew a deep breath and ran a hand through her wind-tousled hair. She forced herself to appear calm, though on the inside she was screaming.

None of this was possible. She couldn't believe that any of this was true.

So what the hell was going on?

"An anonymous tip," Kallen told them, and she was shocked by how composed her voice sounded. She had fully expected it to come out as nothing more than a whisper, "Zero and the Empress are on an island in the Pacific Ocean."

They stared at her. All of them stared at her. Ohgi, Tamaki, Tohdoh, Villetta, Chiba, Rakshata, and Jeremiah. Even the newest member of the senior Knights; Cornelia li Britannia; was watching her as if she might explode.

"Well?" Kallen whispered, glancing around at them. Surely they couldn't pass this opportunity up…?

"We have no idea who might have called?" Tohdoh asked, opening his eyes to gaze at her. His expression was disbelieving. Kallen knew what he must be thinking. The last time they had started a war by accepting advise from an anonymous caller, they had ended up with Zero. That had started out well, but…

It had been the policy among the Knights since the end of the war not to take unidentified calls. But this one had been identified. Kallen had known the caller the instant he spoke to her.

She just wished she could tell them that.

"And island in the Pacific Ocean…" Ohgi murmured, "That's sort of broad, Kallen. I mean… Japan is an island in the Pacific Ocean."

Kallen shook her head.

"They told me which island it was." She murmured, "I've been there before."

There was another extended, tense moment of silence. The senior Knights glanced amongst themselves, exchanging opinions without saying a word. Many of them were of the same opinion. She could see it in the eyes of Ohgi. Of Villetta, Cornelia, and Gilford and Jeremiah. They were not going to go along with this. They would not accept a tip from an anonymous source.

Kallen wondered, if they knew who she knew the caller must have been, if their opinions would change.

And it was Rakshata who asked the question in all of their minds.

"So what are we going to do?"

~v~

"It was successful."

Anastasia glanced around. There was elation in Lelouch's voice. His eyes were bright with excitement. Anastasia had never thought that the Demon Emperor could look so completely… human.

"They took it?" She murmured. Her lips twitched, in spite of her attempt at emotionless-ness. When Lelouch had told her to call Kallen's line, she hadn't thought that this plan could possibly work. She was a woman; how was she supposed to make her voice sound like Lelouch's.

But she should have known. If the stories she had heard of Zero, and of the Demon Emperor, were true, then Lelouch was a genius to rival the gods.

Speaking to Kallen, giving her the orders that Lelouch whispered in her mind, she had marveled at the way his voice seemed to come through her lips. She wasn't sure what it was; the mask, or something more sinister that he was doing to her mind. But whenever she spoke from behind the mask of Zero, she sounded just like Lelouch.

"Yes," Lelouch answered, "They took it. They will be at the island when we need them there."

Anastasia nodded, still smiling slightly. Energy, the thrill of battle, was coursing through her. So this was what it felt like? To be the mastermind? To have a true effect on events?

"You must remember to be careful with your Geass." Lelouch observed, and Anastasia focused on him again. The time had come to prepare for the fight ahead, "You can not use it too often. Be more reserved than I was. Or you will lose control of it."

"I understand," Anastasia agreed quietly, "Do you really think it will be of much use?"

Slowly, Lelouch came to his feet, turning and walking gracefully towards the edge of the gray marble platform on which they perched. He paused at the edge, staring down among the glistening golden clouds, examining the way they shifted and played against the divine wind of his home. The whole place made Anastasia shiver; the power of it was overwhelming.

But Lelouch… Lelouch was a part of that power.

"You have yet to discover the full extent of your Geass, Akemi." Lelouch answered quietly, and yet his voice carried easily on the tense power of the air, to Anastasia's ears, "You will learn, over time. How it can be used, how it can not." He turned again, gazing at her, "But yes. I believe that your power, even now, will be a great help to us."

"Is that why you chose me?" Anastasia asked, even as she came to her feet and followed him to the edge. She left her mask behind, lying on the marble floor, glistening just as brightly as the realm in which Lelouch had come to live. Glistening with blood, with lies, and with justice.

Lelouch seemed to consider her question for a moment, gazing at her with his piercing violet eyes. And Anastasia shivered at his gaze. It was too intense; much to brilliant. It took her breath away.

"It is one of the reasons." Lelouch finally answered her, "You had a unique power, even before I gave you Geass. A photographic memory can be of great value in a war-zone."

"But it wasn't the only reason." Anastasia observed, still caught by his gaze.

"No," He agreed, but he left it at that, turning back to the golden clouds. Anastasia sighed quietly. She was not such a fool as to think she could get him to speak if he did not want to.

"How are we going to win this war, Lelouch?" She asked in a voice much gentler than her usual voice. A thoughtful voice. Perhaps… a little bit of a frightened voice?

"With cunning." Lelouch answered just as quietly, "With cunning, and instinct, and with a power that the other side does not possess."

"I only hope it will be enough…"

~v~

Kallen glanced around anxiously, passing her gaze once more over the massed forces of the Black Knights. Such a sudden call had not been able to bring in all of their forces; only about two thirds of the Knights had received the message, and only about half had reported for duty. But that was more than she had expected, after the others' reactions to her decisions.

As Zero's most trusted Knight, she had been the natural choice for leader of the Knights, despite her still being a student at the time. And as leader, it had been her word which was final at the meeting the previous day. She had chosen to take the advice of the "anonymous caller". She had chosen to investigate the island in the Pacific ocean.

That choice had been quickly followed with the resignation of five of the senior Knights.

Cornelia had refused to go, because she did not trust anyone she did not know. And if she was gone, so was Gilford. Jeremiah had gone because he refused to serve anyone but those who Lelouch had ordered him to serve. Ohgi and Villetta had gone because Ohgi had been there, at the beginning. He had been one of the terrorists of whom Zero had taken command; the one who made the decision to follow Zero's orders in that first battle. He had learned his lesson the first time, as he put it.

And so there was little left of the senior Knights for Kallen to take into battle. She would have to survive on an army of basic recruits who barely passed as Knightmare pilots, and a few experienced warriors to stand at her back. Even worse, she would have to survive on the word of a man who had been dead for ten years.

"It will work out." She almost jumped when Tohdoh spoke behind her. She turned to find him standing, calm and stiff as ever, with Chiba close at his side, "As soon as we have Zero, we will win."

"You're assuming that we will have to fight." Kallen observed nervously, glancing around once more at her small, incompetent army. What she wouldn't have given to have Suzaku around…

No. Suzaku was dead. By her hand. She could not start regretting that. Not now.

"When have the Black Knights ever made it through without a fight?" Was Tohdoh's only form of response. Before Kallen could say anything else, he and Chiba had moved away, towards their specialized Knightmares.

Kallen sighed quietly, staring around at her amassed forces. It felt inadequate, when she remembered the incredible armies that Lelouch had built during his reign as Zero. Hundreds of incredibly skilled pilots, fighting side by side, for the same cause. Most of them had abandoned the Knights when Lelouch was gone.

Only he could have held such a diverse force together.

Nearby, she could see Tamaki shouting at some of the disorganized troops. She sighed softly, watching him as he practically chased the newcomers around the hangar. There was no way he was going to get the troops into their Knightmares that way. Not that it mattered; most of them hardly knew how to pilot the damned things. What she really needed was her old force. Her old friends, the veteran pilots. If this came to battle with the Federation, she would need the senior Knights at her side.

But there were only five senior Knights left to go into this battle.

She could only hope that they would be among the Knights who came back out of it.

~v~

She had done it so many times, it hardly took any thought anymore. Hand-over-hand, one at a time, Anastasia drew herself up the thick vines on the side of the building, towards her bedroom window. It was easy to find the dips in the plants, where her hands had warn away at them over the many years of secret escapes and returns.

Of course, she had never returned in quite this fashion before.

The dark cloak swung around her neck, but it hardly added any weight to her climb. It was the mask, more than anything, which gave her a bit of trouble. It continuously caught on the various leaves and tendrils of the graceful vines. It was an inconvenience, even if it did hide her face.

In spite of the irritation, she managed eventually to clamber up and slip through the smooth curtains of her open window.

The room was dark and silent. Moving silently, she crept across the wooden floor to the door and crouched before the door, examining its corner. She smiled gently. The hair that she kept stuck between the door and the wall was still there, unbroken. No one had been inside since she'd left.

Coming to her feet once more, she turned and headed towards the farthest corner of the room. There, a deep chest stood, full of books and toys from when the Holcombs had first adopted her, and had bought her everything they thought her little heart desired. They had given up on that long ago, finally realizing that it was a hopeless cause. No matter what they did, their little Japanese daughter was never going to look at them with love.

Still moving with caution, to avoid waking her brother, who slept across the hall from her, she began to lift the toys from the chest, laying them gently on the floor beside her. It was a long way to dig; they had wasted lots of money on her, in those earliest of lost days. It seemed to take an eternity for her to reach the bottom of the chest.

A smile flicked across her lips as she ran her hand along the edge of the chest's bottom, until she found that tiny lever, practically invisible to the naked eye. Her gloved hand rasped softly against the rough wood, masking the tiny click as she undid the latch. The bottom of the chest popped open, and she lifted it up, to reveal the true treasures of the chest, hidden in the compartment below.

There, a cloth bundle sat. It was large, bulky, and oddly shaped, as though packed with long, thin objects. There was a bundle of envelopes tied across the top of the heavy linen sack. It looked shabby and worn; something an orphan would carry with them.

But to her, it was the center of the world. The meaning of life.

Wordlessly, she stroked the dark scrawl across the front of the top envelope. It was easy to recognize the untidy scribbling of her father. Sato Yukimi had never put much stock in things that were pretty; he said that beauty was just another way to hide weakness.

Except, of course, in the case of his family. His wife, Tsubako, had been the object of envy in their neighborhood through her entire life. And as Yukimi himself had cut a rather attractive figure, the daughter they had given life to; the lovely Akemi; had been the prize of their home town.

Until that home town had been utterly destroyed…

It was strange, to her. Hadn't it been in an attack by Zero; by Lelouch; that her home had ceased to exist? Still, she could not bring herself to hate him. She was like a little lost lamb, who had run to the wolf for protection. And it had been given to her. After so many years, finally, the wolf had given her a purpose.

Anastasia seized the bundle, heaving it out of the depths of the chest and placing it on her bed. Silently, she latched the bottom of the chest back down and piled the toys in on top of it.

She would be back, of course. It would spike suspicions if Anastasia Holcomb were to suddenly vanish, on the same day as "the true Zero" began working miracles once more. It would lead to the deaths of her innocent family, if they were suspected of fraternizing with the new terrorist. And so she would continue to move about her pointless existence here, in the Holcomb household. Some days she would go to school, others she would skip. Some days she would attend dinner, others she would not. She would live just as she had for years, moving through the house, an empty shell of herself.

Only now, in the shadows, she had something to live for.

And what mattered most in the world to her was that right then, where she knelt beside her bed, staring down at the bundles of letters which were all she had left of the place she had once called home, she had zero resignations.


	6. Episode Five: Rebirth of a Hero

Episode Five – Rebirth of a Hero

The Knightmares drifted silently, but for the slapping of waves against their thick metallic hulls. Seated within them, no Knight dared to speak, lest the sounds be picked up by a passing enemy. They moved without light, following only the splashing sounds of each other's vessels and the written orders on the screens within their Knightmares.

Kallen sat within her own Knightmare, listening to the whispered instructions of a man she knew was dead, transmitted over the cell-line she had never though to deactivate. After all, that dead man had been the only one who knew the code for the line.

She hadn't really expected the dead man to call her.

'_Lelouch…'_ His name echoed over and over again in the back of her mind. She wasn't really listening to what he was saying to her, anymore. She was preoccupied with trying to imagine how he could possibly be alive. She had been there that day; granted, she had been chained to a float at the other end of the procession, but she had been there nonetheless. She had seen Zero run, attack, stab Lelouch. Kill him.

But that was the answer, wasn't it? From day one, Lelouch had acted with brains, not brawn. Strategy, not force. In these last few years… had she seen a single brilliant plan? A single miracle created from a situation where they had nothing?

Had she ever seen the man beneath the mask that she had called Zero?

"Are you listening to me, Kallen?" Lelouch's voice asked coolly. Kallen jumped, hand flying up to the clip on her ear.

"W-what?" She whispered, "Sorry…"

Lelouch's deep laugh shocked her again with its familiarity. When had he ever laughed around her? Really, truly laughed? Why was it so completely familiar?

Why did it matter so much…?

"You may encounter resistance on the way up to the island," Lelouch repeated calmly, "The Federation will attack on sight, if they see you at all. Try to stay hidden. When the fighting starts, draw the battle out as long as you can—"

"When?" Kallen whispered.

Lelouch was silent for a moment. Or perhaps not. She could hear whispers in the background, as though he were conversing with someone.

"Yes," He agreed, "When. The Federation stands directly between you and your Empress."

"What do you think we're going to do about it?" Kallen whispered, "We're riding Knightmares that are three generations behind the current Chinese model."

"As I said, draw the fight out as long as you can." Lelouch answered with the same degree of calm as always, "I will take care of the rest."

Kallen was silent for a moment, but Lelouch did not continue. He did not seem about to elaborate. She got the sense that he was waiting for her to speak, first. It took a while for her to figure out what she wanted to say.

"Is this really wise…?" Kallen whispered doubtfully, "We could wait… gather our forces—"

"We must move quickly, Q-1." Lelouch disagreed forcefully, "If we wait until our strength returns, the Chinese Federation will already own the world. We don't need another Britannia."

"But what can we do?" Kallen demanded.

"You can dodge." Lelouch answered quietly, "Lie. Bluff. Make them think you are stronger than you are. You will only need as long as it takes to find your Zero and the Empress."

Kallen nodded silently, forgetting that he couldn't see. Her lack of reply didn't seem to bother him. Not that much had ever seemed to bother him; he had always been calm, composed and intelligent.

At least…

He had whenever he stood behind the mask.

Wait… hadn't he been the false Zero? Kallen sighed in frustration. She couldn't keep it straight, couldn't figure out what her mind was trying to tell her. Why was she supporting him, anyways? What proof did she have that this really was Lelouch, and not some sort of crazy imposter. A Chinese spy, even? She had learned many years ago never to trust a man without a face.

So why did she trust the man at the other end of the line?

"Beware, Kallen." Lelouch interrupted her thoughts without warning.

"Commander," An officer's voice crackled over the communication lines between the Knightmares, "There's movement ahead."

Kallen looked up, scanning the horizon. Her eyes widened.

"Damn…"

~v~

Anastasia's cloak whipped out in the sea-breeze which surrounded her. She stood at the ship's prow, staring out into the deep black of night. The sky was indistinguishable from the seething ocean, and the ship rocked with the destructive, unstoppable strength of water. The power of it impressed her; no matter what struck it, the water molded around the blow and kept on moving. Nothing could fight it. Even the strongest of swimmers would tire and drown…

That was the strength she needed. Strength which could stretch and evolve, but never weaken. The strength of the sea.

"Are you ready to begin?" C.C. spoke from behind her. Anastasia made no move to respond. She did not need to respond yet; they were still several hours away, "This will be dangerous. You aren't invincible just because you're wearing that costume."

Anastasia knew that. She wasn't a fool. She had never thought of herself as invulnerable, immortal. She knew she was human; she knew she could die. Hiding behind the mask of Zero did not change any of that.

But she also knew that she was ready. She always had been.

The slap of water on the ship sides filled the silence between them. Anastasia chose not to speak, because there was nothing she could say. Either it would work out, or it would not. And there was nothing that either of them could do about it, no matter the result.

"Are your plans prepared?" C.C. asked. Her tone was dubious; it brought a small smirk to Anastasia's lips, beneath the mask. C.C. had not liked the idea of letting Anastasia; a rookie; plan the battle. She said Lelouch should have planned it; after all, he knew what he was doing.

It made Anastasia glow with pride to remember how Lelouch had responded to that. 'She will be fine.' He had said. 'Today, she is Zero.'

And she felt like Zero, stupid as she knew it was. She felt strong and clever, though not quite immortal. No, immortality did not come with the cloak and mask of Zero. But mystery did; mystery and power. And that was all Anastasia needed, to destroy her enemies.

Living forever… she would worry about later.

"How has your testing gone?" C.C. tried again, rather annoyed that Anastasia had ignored her questions.

Anastasia gave a soft laugh, which echoed oddly within the mask, reverberating through her heads for a full second after the original sound had faded.

"Very well." She answered.

"Have you learned your limitations?" C.C. prompted.

"I have learned enough, for now," Anastasia whispered, almost too quietly for C.C. to hear. And she had learned enough; more than she needed, certainly, to complete this mission. There was no need for her Geass here; not yet. Only for her drive, for her physical body, for the mind which could house the voice of the man once called Zero. Their enemies were not powerful yet. There was no reason to bring Geass into the open so early into the war.

This answer seemed to displease C.C., however. Her lips bent into her frown, and Ana thought she caught a flash of disdain in her golden eyes. Clearly, she disapproved of the way Anastasia treated her Geass; a simple tool, something dangerous and unnecessary in most circumstances. C.C. placed a great deal of value in Geass, but Anastasia knew better. Lelouch had warned her, had showed her his mistakes. She would not fall into the same trap; she would not allow Geass to control her. At the end of this new revolution, she intended to be alive.

"How far are we?" Anastasia whispered, before C.C. could speak again. She did not have time now for an argument about the principles of the use of Geass. Her first priority was protecting the lives of those few Black Knights who were still willing to fight.

"A couple of miles, at most," C.C. answered begrudgingly. "The fighting will begin soon."

Anastasia nodded pensively. Her emerald eyes narrowed slightly, watching the moonlight glitter off of the waves; the only source of light on this vast black ocean. Absently, she fingered the edge of the mask she held tucked under her arm. She would put it on when the time came. For now, it was unnecessary; they rode without lights. No one could see her face.

"How long can the Black Knights hold?" Ana asked.

"Not long," C.C. replied, her tone just as reluctant. She did not enjoy bowing to the authority of an inexperienced high-school girl; more than that, she hated bowing to the authority of someone she had not chosen. It had been different with Lelouch; she had picked him. She made no secret that she did not believe Lelouch had made the right choice in Anastasia.

But Ana did not care. So long as Lelouch needed her, she would fight for this revolution. And perhaps even when he no longer needed her. Perhaps she would always fight. Now that he had given her the power, she could not imagine a world without it.

"Will we make it in time?"

C.C. was shaking her head almost before Anastasia spoke.

"There is little chance."

"Then we'd better speed up," Anastasia murmured, turning from the bow to face back across the ship. She gripped the mask tightly in both hands, raising it and slipping it over her head. The hissing click as it locked into place was at once ominous and thrilling. "Tell the Captain to pick up the pace."

C.C. nodded stiffly, but did as she was told, turning and vanishing back into the darkness of the ship. Anastasia stood for a time, watching the spot where she had vanished, her expression empty behind the mask. It did not feel odd to wear the mask of Zero, as perhaps it should have. She had been wearing a mask for years; an immaterial mask, hiding any and all feeling from the world. Her own face had been a mask in itself.

This mask was nothing new.

~v~

The waves rushed softly up against the sand, lapping at Nunnally's toes. The water was cold; colder than she would have liked, certainly. That had always been the problem with beaches. She loved them; she had always enjoyed taking trips to the beach with her many siblings. But the water had always been just a little bit too cold…

Trailing her finger through the sand, Nunnally scribbled out a pattern. At first she thought that it was just some silly, senseless design; an abstract creation of a little girl's mind. But after a while she began to see something there, in the lines her finger left behind. A cloak… a mask…

Sighing softly, she swiped her hand over the drawing, washing it away in one broad stroke. No matter what she did, even now, ten long years after Lelouch's death, her thoughts always seemed to turn to her beloved older brother.

Desperate for some sort of distraction, Nunnally raised her eyes from the sand to the glistening, moonlit waves beyond. But there was little there to see; everything was rippling and black. The sky and the sea merged together perfectly, like some great black wall, boxing Nunnally in on that forsaken island. Alone...

No, not completely alone. Suzaku was still with her.

She twisted around, searching him out. He sat on a boulder, a little ways back up the beach, where the water could not touch him. She could not blame him; she could not imagine how heavy that cloak must become when it got wet.

That cloak… that cloak had been the source of all of her misery in life. That cloak, and the mask that came with it. Suzaku sat with the mask in his lap, and though his eyes were fixed on the horizon, his hands never ceased to stroke its curved surface. His fingers followed the graceful lines of the mask without thought, tracing by instinct. By memory. No matter what he did, Nunnally had seen, he always seemed to be touching that mask. She could hardly bear to think the sort of memories, the sort of pain, that mask held for him. Her brother, his best friend… Lelouch had worn that mask.

Lelouch had touched that mask as he died…

Nunnally gave herself a sharp shake. Desperate for a distraction from her memories, she called out to Suzaku.

"When do you think they'll come?" she asked. Suzaku jumped when she spoke, looking up as though he had forgotten she was there. She knew that wasn't likely. Suzaku had thought of almost no one else for ten years. One of her brother's final commands, she supposed… protect her. From what Suzaku had told her, that had always been Lelouch's goal. It made her cold inside to think that her brother had died for something as silly as that.

Suzaku's lips tilted down slightly as he considered her question. His lips were always like that now; curved into a stiff, unhappy frown. She had not seen him smile since… but she had never seen him smile. She had not met him before she was blind… and he had never smiled after her eyes had opened again.

"I don't think they'll come at all," Suzaku told her, his voice plain and honest. He never lied to her; Nunnally was fairly sure that he wasn't capable of it. Not just her, so far as she knew he had never lied to anyone. Lying seemed to be the worst of sins, to Suzaku. She could not imagine how he had gotten along with her brother. No matter how much she hated to admit it, he had lied. Constantly.

Slowly, Nunnally turned back to the waves. She rolled his words over in her mind, considering them.

"Why would C.C. say they were coming if they weren't?" she whispered. Behind her, Suzaku shifted, sliding down off of the boulder to land in the sand at its base. She heard his feet shifting across the beach as he came to sit beside her.

"C.C. isn't really the sort of person you can trust, Nunnally…" Suzaku replied. Nunnally frowned, but he did not see, continuing without looking at her. "She does things her own way… and not always for the good of others."

"I've never seen her hurt anyone," Nunnally told him. It had always confused her, Suzaku's odd dislike for C.C. The girl had been perfectly pleasant when Nunnally had met her. Though she had to admit, C.C. had lied a great deal… everything she had said when they first met had been a lie.

And Lelouch had gone along with it…

"She hides it very well," Suzaku growled, distracting her. Nunnally swallowed painfully, a bit frightened by his tone. This was not the Suzaku she remembered, not the Suzaku that Euphemia had fallen in love with. This was the broken shell that her brother had left in his wake, left behind to guard her. She had never felt entirely comfortable with him; not since Lelouch had died.

Nunnally licked her lips lightly and forged on, still watching Suzaku's dark, joyless face.

"How long do you think it will be?" she demanded. Suzaku sighed quietly, raising one gloved hand to rub at his temples. Nunnally could not help a little shiver of concern that ran down her spine. He must still be in pain… even he could not heal that sort of wound over night.

"C.C. said they would be here within the hour," Suzaku whispered. He turned to her then, fixing her blue eyes with his. "Get some sleep, Nunnally. You look tired."

"So do you," Nunnally returned without thinking. Suzaku shook his head slightly, turning back to the sea.

"Sleep," he murmured. "I'll wake you if I see anything."

Nunnally started to object, but Suzaku was not listening anymore. She could tell by the far-away look in his eyes that his thoughts were with Euphie once more. There was no way to talk to him when he was this way.

"Good night…" she whispered, lying back across the sand and closing her eyes. He offered no acknowledgement as she forced herself to relax, giving herself in to her exhaustion. She fell asleep with the sea rushing against her feet.

~v~

The first explosion was like a wake-up call to Kallen. The world seemed to rock around her as her Knightmare was thrown off coarse, sea and sky exploding in color around her. Not for the first time, she was grateful for the shields Rakshata had developed so many years ago. She could not count the number of times they had kept her alive.

All around, she could hear people mobilizing. Voices sang over the intercom, but Kallen ignored them as adrenaline sang through her veins. It seemed and eternity since she had felt this way; wide awake and full of life, eager to destroy and protect, to shed the blood of her enemies. It seemed like forever, and yet she felt like it had been only yesterday that the war had ended.

More explosions followed the first, one after another, shattering the quiet night in rapid succession. It was disorienting, the way the air around her seemed to burst with color, illuminating that which they had not seen.

Chinese Federation ships. Dozens of them; almost a hundred, perhaps. Bearing down on the same little island as the Black Knights. But they were turning now, diverting their forces.

Unfortunately, it had been the Black Knights who were spotted first.

Kallen leaned forwards, seizing her controls. Her body moved fluidly, without and direction from her mind. She reacted to the blasts without any thought at all, riding them out like a surfer on a wave. Most of the new recruits were not so skilled. Several went tumbling into the sea, and Kallen could only pray that they would ever be seen again.

"Don't fight them!" she shouted over the intercom, though she doubted that anyone heard her over the babble and screaming of the less experienced recruits. "Just stay alive! We have to find an opening!"

"We're not going to make it!"

The voice was Tamaki's, as Kallen had expected. He was always the firs to speak, whether in battle or at a drinking party. It was harsh with fear and anger. He wanted to be able to fight, she could tell. He was craving, as she was, the days when the Black Knights had been strong.

This sort of conflict would never have bothered them before.

"We must retreat," Tohdoh's words interrupted Tamaki. Kallen hissed quietly at that. Retreating was one thing that she had never liked. She was a stubborn person, rash. She liked to plow straight through to her destination, to get what she wanted no matter what it took. But she could see that the others were right. Though the noise of the constant fire was cut off by the hull of her Knightmare, she could see that things were not going well. Under the perpetual rain of attacks, in a matter of minutes there would be no one left.

Kallen gritted her teeth angrily, her hands tightening on her controls. The Knightmare seemed to shudder around her. It was a weak machine, several generations too old. She was used to the Guren… with the Guren they could have won.

She shook her head sharply. The Guren was lying in pieces underneath a pile of rubble at the Imperial Palace. She had to work with what she had, and that wasn't much. She had to keep what she had alive…

Kallen opened her mouth to give the order, but with a crackling of static the lines were cut. She swore bitterly, slamming her fist against the controls, determined that they should work. But something had changed; her Knightmare had been too badly damaged, or the enemy had put out a screen. There was no way to reach her army now…

If she could not reach them, they were all going to die.

Desperately, Kallen began pounding on buttons, struggling to forge a connection with someone's Knightmare. Anyone's Knightmare. On another day she might have been able to do it; she was good with Knightmares, no matter what the function. But on this night, she did not get the chance.

The speakers hummed to life once more. Kallen opened her mouth again, ready to give the order to retreat. But once again, she was interrupted.

"Head for the island," Lelouch's voice commanded, without the slightest hint of hesitation. He spoke with the same cold composure that he had always possessed; some sense of authority that made him entirely impossible to resist. Kallen began to wonder how she could ever have doubted him. "Find the Empress and your Zero."

"The Federation—" Kallen started, but Lelouch cut her off again.

"I will take care of it."

And with a soft click, the line went dead, and the terrified shouts of her dying soldiers assaulted her ears once more.

~v~

At first, through the fog of sleep, Nunnally thought that a storm had hit. That she was lying back in her warm bed at the palace, listening to thunder crash outside. But no thunder she had ever heard sounded so frequently…

"Nunnally," Suzaku's voice cracked close to her ear. She felt his hand on her shoulder, shaking her gently. "Nunnally, we have to move."

Dazed, Nunnally started to sit up. Suzaku did not give her time, pulling her upright with unusual force. He sounded frightened, but Nunnally couldn't quite figure out why. Through her half-lidded eyes she could see the colors of fireworks. What was there to be frightened of at such a beautiful festival?

She felt Suzaku's arms slide under her, lifting her up off of the sand…

Sand?

It all rushed back at once. The attack. The chaos, the pain, the blood… the island.

They were on and island. The Chinese Federation had invaded.

Was that who was causing those explosions? Then those weren't fireworks…

"Bombs," she whispered, and her eyes flew open the rest of the way. Suzaku nearly dropped her as she came suddenly to life in his arms. "What's going on?"

"Fighting offshore," Suzaku answered tensely. He was jogging now, back towards the caves where they had first taken shelter. She could see his face, very close to hers; twisted with pain and fear. She could only imagine what carrying her was doing to his healing wounds. "Got to get to safety…"

Nunnally frowned.

"What if it's the Black Knights?" she demanded. "How will they find us?"

"We have to get somewhere safe," Suzaku repeated firmly, ducking into the cave. Before Nunnally could protest he had swept her on towards the back of the caverns, heading to the deeper tunnels they had yet to explore. Her arms tightened around his neck as they descended past the curtain of darkness, into a realm far too much like blindness.


	7. Episode Six: Water Burning

Episode Six – Water Burning

Malcolm grabbed at his controls as his Knightmare went reeling to the side, certain that he was going to topple out of the cockpit. That was ridiculous, he knew; the top was sealed and the only way for him to escape now would be to eject. But the sheer power of the Chinese weapons, the strength of the shockwaves, still made him shake with the idea of falling into them. Anyone standing out there now, unprotected by the shielding walls of a Knightmare, would have no chance at survival.

Desperately he fought with the controls, trying to make the Knightmare obey him, if only to retreat to safer ground. But the Chinese weapons were blasting on all sides, and they tossed his weapon back and forth as though it were made of nothing but air. All he could do was sit there and hover and wait for the blasts to stop so he could drop out of the sky. There was no way his flight device was still working in all of this.

Malcolm knew how he must look, and he was grateful that no one could see him; not his commanders or his enemies. He was shaking badly, and sweat dripped down his death-pale face. His hands had gone numb with the effort of holding on to his controls. He could have let them go, they were useless to him anyways, but Malcolm could not bring himself to release his grip.

There was a short surge of relief as the speakers crackled to life, but it quickly died. It was Kallen, their leader in Zero's absence. But there was no order to retreat, no brilliant plan to get them out.

"Everyone hang tight," she commanded, her voice cracking over the barely-maintained line. "Command, follow me."

Malcolm's stomach tightened again. He was sure he would be sick. He could see them now, moving on his radar screen. Drifting away from the main body, painfully slow as they were tossed in every direction by their enemies' blasts. Kallen, Tohdoh, Chiba, and Tamaki, all that was left of the leaders of the Black Knights, were leaving them. They were heading for the island, he knew. They would find Zero and Nunnally, and only then would they worry about the underlings they had left behind. Zero was more important, Malcolm knew that. He would always be more important. Without Zero, there was no war. Malcolm gave a cry of despair, finally releasing the controls to hide his face in his hands. They were all going to die.

~v~

Gravel ground quietly beneath Kallen as she landed, twisting the key and shutting her Knightmare down right there on the beach. This island, she knew, was too thickly wooded for a Knightmare to be of any use. She pushed out through the hatch, lowering herself onto the sand and walking towards the trees. She remembered this place very well.

She wondered if Lelouch remembered it the same way she did.

"Orders, Kallen?" Tohdoh's quiet voice sounded just behind her shoulder. She had to fight not to jump at that; he was always just a little bit too close, just a little bit too quiet.

"Spread out," Kallen answered, her voice carrying across the beach to where Chiba and Tamaki were still dismounting. "Search for any sign of them. Zero's Knightmare was pretty beaten up to begin with, he can't have landed well. Smoke, burning, crushed plants. Anything that could lead to a wreck."

"Yes, ma'am," Chiba answered shortly, saluting Kallen and striding away across the beach. Tamaki ran after her, looking pale and frightened. Kallen understood how he felt. It was wrong to leave their armies behind, even if it _was_ Zero they were chasing after.

"Where are we going?" Tohdoh asked once Chiba and Tamaki had vanished down the beach.

"Into the forest," Kallen answered quietly. Tohdoh did not answer, but she had not expected him to. All she usually expected was a silent nod. In the end, it was surprising when he _did _speak. She struck out across the beach, leading him out into the underbrush. She watched the world carefully as she passed through it, hunting out any sort of signal she could find – a crushed leaf, a scrap of hair on a twig – but it would do her little good. How could she be sure they were signs of human activity, when there were likely animals all over the island?

Half an hour passed, and they continued walking, deeper and deeper into the dark forest. She was prepared to give up, admit that she had been wrong. That the phone call had been a farce. Lelouch was dead. She knew that. She had been there, watched it happen. How could he be calling her, giving her advice? It was ridiculous. Some prankster.

But how had they accessed that number…?

"Kallen!" Tohdoh snapped, and she jerked to a halt, eyes wide. Absorbed in her thought, she had nearly stepped into the massive, skidding track of something landing. Something large. Large enough that it had broken several of the trees it passed. The charred ground spoke of flames and destruction, but no smoldering wreck of a Knightmare lay in sight. Instead, a set of clean, brush-breaking tracks… Zero was alive. Kallen felt her heart hitch in her chest. Nunnally might be alive as well…

"Call the others," she commanded. She did not wait to see that her order was followed, stepping out into the burnt grass and following the patch cut by the dying Knightmare. She had to find them. She had to know…

~v~

The chill air cut through Suzaku's lung like nothing he had ever experienced before. He'd been shot, stabbed, punched… nothing felt like this. Cold, wet, as though he were trying to drown rather than breathing. Ever step made him shudder just that much more as he plunged deeper and deeper into the silence of the caverns. All was black now – only by luck and the curse of his immortal Geass had he managed not to plunge to his death, and Nunnally's. That assuming, of course, that there was somewhere to plunge to, and he was not walled in from all directions. A thought which, somehow, scared him even more.

He could feel Nunnally shaking in his arms. She had never been strong, and now the longer he ran the thinner she seemed to become. He could only imagine her fear – she had seen war, seen her brother become a monster, seen much more than either Suzaku or Lelouch had ever wished of her. Nevertheless, she would never see as much as Suzaku had. And this cavern frightened even him.

The sharp echo of his boots against the lumpy cave floor accompanied his breathless rasping in a sort of dystopian symphony. The world was ending. The Chinese Federation… why hadn't he seen it coming? Lelouch would have. Lelouch would have seen it years before it happened. Lelouch had probably seen it before he died…

No, he had definitely seen it. Nothing escaped Lelouch's Geassed eyes. He'd known then, at the very end…

"Suzaku!" Nunnally shrieked, and Suzaku realized too late that they were falling. He gasped, tried to catch himself, but the ground was gone from beneath his feet, and with Nunnally in his arms he was helpless. His heart flew up out of his mouth as they plummeted away through the sightless black.

~v~

The salt in the air burned all the doubts from Anastasia's mind as she stared across the dark waters to the blossoming of explosions which marked the ongoing battle. She was honestly surprised that the Black Knights had survived this long – undersupplied, untrained, she had expected to find nothing but wreckage waiting for her, floating amongst the triumphant Chinese vessels. Not so. Perhaps she should have given these new generation Black Knights more credit… even if they were not the soldiers Lelouch had lead so many years ago. They would be that again. Someday. She would make them strong once more.

"He is pleased with you," C.C.'s voice, irritating though Anastasia found it, was a comfort in these final moments. Anastasia's annoyingly human heart fluttered with nerves. He needed the sardonic words of the green-haired immortal… but no, there was no sarcasm here. The woman was sincere. Somehow that frightened Anastasia even more. "He is not easy to please. You will make a strong leader for the Dark Knights."

Anastasia's lips twitched of their own accord. The thought was ludicrous. She, the leader. No… she was no Zero. No matter how much she wished for that power to be hers, she bore a different Geass. No two Geasses were the same. She could never be what Lelouch had been, could never do more than fill in where he should be standing, until he found a way back to the mortal realm.

"I am just the spark," she whispered, listening as her voice came through as Lelouch's. Deep, round, certain… terrifying in so many ways. Not hers… better than hers. "I am nothing more than the spark which falls upon the fuel. It is the fire which shall overcome this world."

Anastasia could almost feel C.C.'s smirk, and knew that C.C. saw in Anastasia what the girl was seeing in herself. Lelouch had invaded her. Claimed her. She no longer belonged to herself…

Why did it not bother her?

In a whirl of cloak and a glint of mask, she turned on one heel and brushed past C.C. and strode back over the decks. She felt C.C. fall into step behind her, felt the eyes of the soldiers on her, and walked a little straighter. Their attention warmed her.

"Your word, Zero?" one of them whispered, and still somehow managed to sound like a soldier at attention. Anastasia turned to him, raised one thin brow beneath the mask.

"Let it burn," she answered.

The silence ended. With a skull-shattering rush, yellow flame licked up, spreading rapidly over the smooth surface of the sea. Outlined by the flames, the great black silhouettes of her fleet were painted across the night sky. Hot wind blew up around her, played with her cloak and stained Zero red.

Standing behind Anastasia, C.C. watched the chaos the girl's first performance brought to the Chinese fleet. The radios went wild, commands shouted in Chinese breaking up what few signals Anastasia's forces were attempting to transmit to the stranded Black Knights. It did not matter. The Black Knights were safe.

A god watched them from above.


	8. NOTICE FOR READERS (Please read)

Hello my friends!

Sorry about this, I could not think of another way to contact my readers except one-on-one PMs, and I was afraid you would think that was a little creepy. O.O

When my old computer died I lost ALL of my plotting for this story. So while I want to continue in the same vein, I really can't.

What I do want to do is start over. I'm running a fine toothed comb through what I've already written and structuring a new (and probably better, since I was 16 then and not yet in college) plot. What I need to know is…

Do you guys want me to upload this in the same story? Replace chapters with new text and let you know when the edit has been uploaded? Or would you rather I just started a new story separate from this one?

The story will also be uploaded on Tumblr and possibly DeviantArt. Please let me know your preference!


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